


Efficiency

by Asalade (Asellas)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Galra Efficency is Best Efficiency!, Gen, Silly, headcannon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-28
Updated: 2017-10-28
Packaged: 2019-01-25 09:37:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12528400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asellas/pseuds/Asalade
Summary: Space is cold and Galra run ships at maximum efficiency.





	Efficiency

**Author's Note:**

> I need more Lotor and his band of Cool and Awesome General Ladies™
> 
> Unbeta'd as per normal.

Standing at one of the large bay viewports, Lotor is acutely aware of two things:

Space, the deep endless black stretches between stars, is cold. He knows the science behind the why, understands what it can do to an unprotected body. His mind supplies the basic symptoms of unprotected space exposure: asphyxiation, ebullism, hypoxia, decompression sickness. _Frostbite_ , seethes the little voice he typically ignores, shuddering at the implied images. It’s all tied to that second thing his mind dwells on, in the late hours when he should be sleeping.

The Galra run their ships at maximum efficiency. And efficiency means little in the ways of comfort.

It’s a practice that even he adheres to. Systems, from the largest frigates to the smallest corvettes, are tuned to run for the exact amount of bodied crew. Certain sectors are often sealed, run solely by sentries or remotely from the ship’s mainframe. With life support only supplied to a small percentage of the ship, that power can be put to better use elsewhere. Even if, as he curses the pragmatic need to spool warp engines up forty-seven percent faster or fire a continuous barrage of all port or starboard cannons at sixty-three percent power ten cycles longer than any other ship in the entire empire, it leaves the ship somewhat chilly.

He exhales loudly, scowling at the wisps of fog he can see reflected in the viewport. Though he shows no outward signs, he’s exhausted. Sleep is elusive when no amount of blankets seem to keep the chill from numbing his toes or the tips of his long ears. He’s been tempted on at least two occasions to adjust the life support systems to just a few degrees warmer, but he’s stopped each time as his finger hovers above the holoscreen, pride screaming that if the entire Galra military can deal with nearly freezing temperatures constantly, so can he.

A shudder wracks his whole body; he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering.

Who’s he kidding, it’s _fucking freezing._

“Sir.”

He’s able to suppress the jolt of (Surprise? Shame? No, those are all _weak_ things, and he is not weak)… something he cannot quite put words to, merely turns his head slightly to see Acxa from the corner of his eye.

“Yes,” he questions, turning his head back to the viewport in time to track an asteroid meandering near their course. She moves silently as ever; he only knows she comes to stand near by the shift in temperature. Warmth radiates from her, so much so he has to work to not sway into her body and soak it up like a cat in a sunbeam.

“Well, out with it,” he sighs, turning to look at her expectantly. His heart feels as if it stops, skips a beat, then thuds hard on his ribs in effort to catch up. He can see it in the gentle, almost imperceptible crease of her brow, the slight downward pull of her lips.

She _knows_.

“I… think I have a…” she pauses, lick her lips nervously as she weighs her words as carefully as she lines up targets in the sights of her blaster. “A… solution, to your… uhm, problem.”

The Galra part of him screeches and rages in indignation at this… this puny little half-breed how dare she assume he’s _weak_ he’ll teach her to speak so freely he’ll-

Slam a mental door in it’s face, is what he does. He’s too tired to deal with that part of himself at the moment. What he wants, no, _needs_ , is sleep and warmth, and if Acxa has any ideas…. Well, he’d be dumb not to at least listen to her.

“Come with me, it’s… easier to explain elsewhere.” She comes one more step closer to put a hand on his arm. He can feel the heat of her hand right through his armor. It’s wonderful and inviting, so much so he forgets to correct her lapse in station for touching him without direct permission.

\--

“What, no! It’s not… Not like _that_ ,” Acxa sputters, cheeks flushing dark in embarrassment. Lotor decides it’s a good look for her, allows a teasing smile to spread across his lips as she fights to rein in her uncharacteristic outburst. She gives him a wary look, unused to being so… so _casual_ with him.

“Now, you were saying…?”

\--

Lotor has no need for alarms to wake him, his internal clock is a finely tuned precision machine. He wakes one hour before his duty cycle, as he always does. Normally he would spend about five doboshes huddled in his pile of blankets, trying to enjoy what little warmth he’d managed to cultivate before going through a quick (but blessedly _hot_ ) sanisteam wash.

Three doboshes in his pile of blankets shift and grumble quietly. He grumbles back and burrows closer into the warmth, sleepily enjoying how warm his feet are for once. He roots about sleepily through silky hair to press his cold nose to something warm and soft, sighing contentedly. There’s a squeak and the blankets shift violently till he’s blinking slowly at another pair of yellow and blue eyes.

Ah, right. That.

\--

Lotor half expects there to be blackmail involved.

“It’s…. it’s as much for me as it is you,” Acxa mumbles as she straps on her armor over the base layer she sleeps in.

“Really, I’d have never thought,” Lotor says from his pile of blankets. He too is clothed in a thermal base layer, but without armor he’s suddenly overly-modest. Acxa runs a hand through her hair to tame the sleep-mused locks, face going sour.

“I’m… I’m not accustomed to this climate,” she mutters, cheeks again flushing. Lotor sees a boon in that admittance, a shared weakness for a shared weakness. While his Galra half still seethes, it at least knows that she’ll not be spreading this tale around the crew.

His pride is, still blessedly, preserved.

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 2 to include all the rest of the Cool and Awesome General Ladies™ and shenanigans, whenever I can get it done.


End file.
